


stand up in my holy terrain

by ghostoftonantzin



Category: What We Do in the Shadows (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Chair Sex, Devotion, F/F, Fingering, Marking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:48:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27677624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostoftonantzin/pseuds/ghostoftonantzin
Summary: But she just couldn’t understand how someone could stand before the statue of Nandor the Relentless in the great hall, bare except for a sword and helmet and a cloth carved across her lap, and go back to their quiet lives.Guillermo has devoted herself to her goddess.
Relationships: Fem!Guillermo de la Cruz/Fem!Nandor the Relentless, Guillermo de la Cruz/Nandor the Relentless
Comments: 14
Kudos: 27





	stand up in my holy terrain

**Author's Note:**

> Q: hey when/where is this set?  
> A: uhhhh
> 
> Title from FKA twigs' "holy terrain"

It’s not that Guillermo disagreed with the high priestess, per se, it’s just that she really thought the floors of the Temple of Nandor the Relentless should be scrubbed every day, not just three times a week. It just felt disrespectful to walk across floors that weren’t polished to a high shine.

She didn’t mind doing it herself, of course. Most of the other disciples didn’t really have the dedication. They had just joined until they found someone from the village to marry. And Guillermo supposed she got it, she really did. The temple didn’t get that many offerings anymore, now that it had fallen out of favor with the current dynasty. But she just couldn’t understand how someone could stand before the statue of Nandor the Relentless in the great hall, bare except for a sword and helmet and a cloth carved across her lap, and go back to their quiet lives. Guillermo had been here eleven years now, since she showed up at the gates on her nineteenth birthday, and she never tired of kneeling before the statue for morning and evening prayers.

Scrubbing the floors didn’t seem so bad when a ray of light came through the temple windows and rested gently on the back of her neck. It felt like a gift from the goddess herself. Guillermo knew that was ridiculous, but she was always looking for little signs of her goddess’s favor like that.

She was going to be the next High Priestess, she was certain. The High Priestess was getting old enough that it was only a matter of time, and who else would the role fall to? No one would want to come up from the village, and Guillermo couldn’t think of any other temples that would send one of their own.

But she wanted so badly to be chosen, somehow, given a sign that Nandor the Relentless had bestowed a blessing upon her. She noticed things, sometimes. Like how, no matter how tightly she pinned up her hair or how far she moved her chair from the windows when she was working on her manuscripts, she would inevitably look up to find one of her curls caught in the latticework. Or the time she had stoked the embers of the flame pit in front of the temple and found a ring, a garnet set in a gold band, that no one could divine the provenance of.

There was no way she could say this in her prayers. She tried to not let it slip into her thoughts while she was kneeling before the statue with the others. But sometimes, late at night, she would let herself wonder what it would be like to feel the warmth of her attention, of the goddess’s favor.

Like now. It was late enough that it was turning into too early. The temple was silent except for the occasional cough and harsh rattling breath from the High Priestess’s room. Guillermo would blame the moonlight shining through her window for her restlessness, but it felt like something within her, this time.

She put on her glasses, then tried to tug a woolen robe on over her nightdress before she had to fully disentangle herself from the blankets. The temple was always freezing this time of year, for as long as she had been there.

She slipped out of her room and padded across the wooden floor of the hallway, which was cold under her bare feet. It had once been inlaid with tile in intricate patterns, long before her time, but that had been torn up to decorate the palace.

She ducked into the entry of the great hall, and there at the far end, sitting as regally and still as always, was Nandor the Relentless. Guillermo’s heart leapt a bit at the sight. Eleven years hadn’t done anything to accustom her to the statue’s fierce gaze.

Guillermo tried not to make a sound as she walked toward the statue, crossing in and out of the moonlight as she passed the windows of the hall. She could see her every breath, and the air stung where she wasn’t covered, but the statue’s gaze always seemed to dull her discomfort, like the goddess was really there, lending Guillermo her heat.

She kneeled. Her knees were barely an inch from the base of the statue, much closer than she would ever dare to sit during morning or evening prayers. She didn’t bow her head; there was no one to see her if she chose to gaze up at the statue as she prayed. Her eyes traced over the stone features.

For once, no words came. What could she ask for? What would she, a lowly disciple, dare ask of Nandor the Relentless, giver of flame and glory, the warrior goddess who reigned over battlefields and throne rooms alike?

Guillermo felt ashamed. To ask something of the goddess, in this run-down temple in a backwater village in a country where the goddess’s name was rarely spoken felt almost like blasphemy. She hadn’t done anything to merit the goddess’s attention except for her everyday duties.

Nandor the Relentless kept her cold gaze forward. Sometimes, in the right light, Guillermo could swear she saw a hint of a smile on her lips. Something about her eyes still seemed sharp, despite being carved from weathered stone. Guillermo had, on more than one occasion, the irresistible urge to reach out and trace her fingers over the marble that made up her features. This was strictly forbidden, except by the High Priestess during the ritual cleaning.

Guillermo stood up. Her hands were starting to feel stiff from the cold, and her knees hurt from kneeling on the bare floor. She would try and get some sleep before her early morning duties. She turned to go, but found she couldn’t take more than a few steps.

Something had caught her by the neck of her robe.

Something had caught her by the neck of her robe, and was rapidly pulling her backwards.

She stumbled and finally tripped when her heel caught on the edge of the raised platform. It felt like that same force was pulling her upward, until she landed on her ass on something hard. Something heavy and solid wrapped around her waist. Guillermo tried to stand up, but she was trapped.

And that was, when Guillermo looked down, definitely a marble arm pressing into her stomach. It was squeezing its fingers into her flesh, too. She realized she was sitting in the statue’s lap. There was a rumbling sound coming from behind her, which a second later resolved itself into what sounded like a laugh.

Guillermo was sitting frozen in the statue’s lap, like the statue had taken all of her motion for itself. She watched as the other arm traced its way across her body until- oh fuck, it was touching her breast. Squeezing her breast through her robe and her nightdress. This was probably a bad situation, and Guillermo should get up and go back to bed.

“Quit that. Stop thrashing, I am still trying to get used to these limbs here.” Guillermo stopped thrashing. The voice in her ear was deep and sharp. Guillermo doubted it could be heard from the other end of the hall at its volume, but it sounded like it was echoing across a crowded field full of soldiers and horses. 

The hairs on the back of her neck stood up. It didn’t sound like any voice she had ever heard. She could feel marble against the back of her neck, and she tried to focus on its feeling against her body. She was getting lightheaded. It couldn’t be.

“You’re-” she said.

“Your goddess, yes.” Nandor the Relentless said. “Were you not offering yourself to me?”

“Such a sumptuous offering. But in such heavy wrapping. Do you really need all this clothing?” she said. She loosened her grip on Guillermo’s torso.

“Here, let me-” Guillermo said, before she could think too hard about it, and leaned forward to grab the hem of her robe. She suddenly felt the cold night air on her back, and her robe and nightdress slumped forward on her body. She had barely felt a finger trace up her back, though. Nandor the Relentless had just touched her robe, and it had come apart.

 _Oh fuck, this is real._ Guillermo thought.

Nandor the Relentless pulled the cloth off of her own lap, and Guillermo saw it ripple as it slid to the floor before settling back into a heap as solid marble again. The helmet followed, clanging softly like real metal as it hit the floor.

She placed her hands on Guillermo’s back, and started to snake them under her robe, back to her stomach and breasts. Guillermo realized that the marble didn’t feel cold, despite the night air. It felt warm, almost hot in comparison to the cold of the hall. One hand settled under her breast as the other slowly trailed its way down to rub over the curls over her pubic bone.

Guillermo wanted to see. She couldn’t see the goddess’s arms underneath her robe and nightshirt, so she slid them down her arms and onto the floor, crumpled over the marble cloth. Everywhere the goddess’s arms weren’t touching her practically burned with the cold.

This was so far beyond anything she had imagined. Sometimes, late at night when everyone else was asleep, Guillermo would take one of the candles from storage and stare at the flame from the privacy of her own bed. In the dark, she was bold enough to call Nandor the Relentless’s image before her eyes as she pleasured herself, watching the flame flicker. She was always filled with shame the next morning, hiding the candle at the bottom of the storage bin, but the desire would inevitable overwhelm her again. 

Nandor the Relentless slid her fingers in between her thighs, and an orgasm spread through her from where she touched like a spark catching kindling. She barely had time to feel aroused before the feeling pulsed through her body. She quivered and heard Nandor the Relentless’s laugh in her ear.

“I- I prayed to you. I wanted…” Guillermo had to say something. Did Nandor the Relentless do this for every temple girl? She had to understand, Guillermo had to make her understand her devotion.

“I know, my honey. I heard your prayers. I especially like the ones you said late at night.” Nandor the Relentless said into her ear, laughing at her. The fingers of one hand were rubbing circles over Guillermo’s clit and the other was pinching and rolling Guillermo’s nipple between its fingers. Guillermo already felt oversensitive from her first orgasm, but-

“Did you think I wasn’t watching you? I am your goddess. You know every flame is my eyes, but you still put up a candle when you wanted to touch yourself. Did you want me to watch you fuck yourself? Did you doubt that I could hear your prayers?”

“Pray to me. Tell me what you wanted me to hear when you were rubbing yourself so hard.”

Guillermo squirmed against the hard marble. She had imagined, of course, and she had never doubted that she heard her prayers, but- Nandor the Relentless was a goddess. She didn’t think she had time for Guillermo’s private imaginings.

“Your great and terrible holiness, Nandor the Relentless, great destroyer of- of-” Guillermo gasped. The hands on her were unceasing, and every flicker of movement was sending waves of pleasure washing through her body. The words she said so often that they were always on the tip of her tongue were failing her.

“This lowly disciple asks of you, to keep her in your favor and to guide her in the path of the flame, and not to judge her for her jealousy. She asks– _ah_ \- for no mercy for her enemies and the strength to deliver punishment-”

“Ff. Do not give me your evening prayers! I have heard your dirty thoughts about me, little priestess.” Nandor the Relentless trailed the hand on Guillermo’s breast down to her cunt and placed her fingers over her entrance. “Give me what I want.”

Guillermo took as deep a breath as she could. “Please answer my prayers, goddess, please take me into your arms and fuck me and let me worship you. Please forgive me for raising my head during prayers so I can imagine crawling between your legs and pushing your clothes aside and, and letting me worship your cunt with my mouth-”

Nandor the Relentless had slid two of her fingers into Guillermo now, as her other hand continued its ministrations to her clit. There was no burn to the stretch, just that pulsing pleasure that had barely ebbed since her first orgasm.

“Tell me the conquered priestess one. Was that your favorite one? You thought of it so often.” she said, and Guillermo let herself imagine that that was excitement she heard in the voice of her goddess.

“I wanted- wanted to be a priestess and- in a temple you conquered, I wanted you to make me-to ask me- to renounce my false god and you would claim me over their altar-”

“And then?” Nandor the Relentless was _goading_ her.

“I would go out in front of my disciples and- _ah, please_ \- they would see me b-burning with your light and know- they would know their god had failed them.” Guillermo had imagined walking out, lit from within with the goddess’s favor, and seeing the fear in the eyes of the nonbelievers. She always came from the phantom feeling of Nandor the Relentless at her back, urging her to carry out her will.

Guillermo realized she had shut her eyes, and forced them open. She could see the expanse of the great hall, lit by the moonlight streaming through the windows. A glowing light was spilling across the floor, warm as firelight, cut through the center by a shadow. 

She wanted so badly to look over her shoulder, to see if the statue was really giving off light, but she was afraid that her eyes would be burned out for gazing on Nandor the Relentless. That had happened to others before, and Guillermo had worked very hard for the illustrations for that manuscript, as a matter of fact. 

“Many virgins have been sacrificed to me throughout the years. Lots of generals, throwing their daughters on the head-chopping block or the big funeral pyre to not be slaughtered in battle. Never worked, though.” Nandor the Relentless said. Guillermo felt her lean in closer.

“But you, Guillermo,” she said, almost softly, “are the first to go willingly.”

Finally, finally, Guillermo turned around.

Nandor the Relentless’s hair hung loose around her face, no longer the texture of marble but black as the night sky. Her dark eyes burned from within like coals on a fire and her mouth was curled into a cruel smile. The statue hadn’t even come close to doing justice to her holy and terrible glory. Looking upon her was like gazing upon the sun reflected in a river of blood. Guillermo couldn’t breathe.

Nandor the Relentless saw her looking at her mouth, and leaned forward to take her lips. The goddess kissed without mercy, and the pleasure pulsing through Guillermo’s body from her cunt reached a crescendo as Nandor the Relentless started to stroke and thrust her fingers harder. Guillermo’s body was shaking too hard to do much more than gasp as Nandor the Relentless pulled on her lower lip with her teeth.

She felt like she was melting. She felt dizzy from the pleasure and exertion both, her back seizing and her legs cramping. She rocked her hips forward to drive herself deeper on Nandor the Relentless’s fingers.

“Your holiness, please… please…” Guillermo sobbed. She couldn’t pull air into her lungs. Black spots were starting to swim in her vision.

“Beg all you want, my honey, but I am the Relentless, not-”

“Harder!”

Guillermo would rather die here than wake up tomorrow, knowing she would never have this again. Let the other disciples find her body a charred husk in the great hall, burned out from the glory flowing through her.

Nandor the Relentless pulled her tightly against her chest and rolled her hips up into Guillermo’s. Guillermo tried to grind her hips back against her, give her some reciprocation, but the goddess was fucking Guillermo’s cunt hard enough to bruise now, fingers making circles around her clit and rubbing against something inside her that made the back of Guillermo’s eyes hurt with pleasure. She felt like she still hadn’t come down from her last orgasm, just hurtling towards another peak. 

The light Nandor the Relentless was casting in the hall had grown bright enough to overwhelm the gap of shadow cast by Guillermo. It was growing brighter still, or maybe Guillermo’s vision was just fading. The light on the worn wooden floor burned into her eyes as she came for a third time.

Through the sensation wracking her body, she could feel Nandor the Relentless pressing her hand into Guillermo’s back, the top of her middle finger almost touching the base of her neck. Guillermo though for a second she was trying to push her off her lap, but she was just pressing her hand into Guillermo’s skin. 

Guillermo’s body was convulsing, trying hard to pull air in and scream at the same time. Nandor’s fingers were still rubbing against her, throwing off sparks of pleasure under her skin. Guillermo could imagine her nerves lighting on fire, the sparks travelling through them. The hand against her back felt like it was burning into her.

Finally, the fire in her died down to embers. Nandor the Relentless had withdrawn her fingers and her arms had gone back to her waist. She let Guillermo lean back against her strong chest in the early morning quiet until she could breathe again. She could still feel where the goddess’s hand had pressed against her. Guillermo felt warm, despite the chill of the air, and content in a way she couldn’t remember ever feeling before.

Suddenly, the doors to the great hall swung open. The rest of the disciples were clustered around the doorframe, pale-faced and wide eyed. Guillermo was surprised to find them awake; morning duties shouldn’t have started yet. After a moment, the one at the front spoke.

“The fire pit- the fire pit out front-”

Guillermo could see the lights in the hallway shining brightly behind where they clustered in front of the doorframe. She frowned. Why were they lighting all of the candles this early? And it was so bright, they must have put out extras. They should know by now that they couldn’t afford to waste candles.

“You stoked the embers?” Guillermo said. What was wrong with them? Not that Guillermo minded them showing some industriousness, but they should know that they were running low on firewood.

“No! No, it’s- it’s been lit, you can see it for miles, people are coming up from the village-” the disciple said, cutting herself off with a gasp as her eyes took in the scene in front of her. Guillermo could hear a low, rumbling laugh from Nandor the Relentless’s chest and knew the goddess’s grin had only widened.

Guillermo abruptly remembered that she was very much not wearing any clothing. She slid out of Nandor the Relentless’s arms and tried to stand on shaky legs. But before she could pull her robe off the ground, Nandor the Relentless stood up and pulled Guillermo against her, their chests touching. She heard gasps and stammering from the disciples clustered around the doorframe.

“Your great and terrible holiness!” That was the sound of knees hitting the floor, bodies bent in prostration, finally. Guillermo smiled up at her goddess. The flames were her work, then. 

She looked back at the disciples kneeling on the floor, most of them in prayer position with their foreheads touching the floor, but a couple were sneaking glances at them. One of them caught her looking and flushed.

“High- High Priestess…” she said. Guillermo stared at her. High Priestess? The High Priestess should still be in her room.

Guillermo felt Nandor the Relentless’s hand slide up her back until her fingers traced over the spot between her shoulder blades that smoldered with heat. Guillermo reached behind her and touched the spot where the goddess’s hand rested. The skin was sensitive and stung where she touched it.

Guillermo could feel, burned into her, the unmistakable shape of a handprint.

**Author's Note:**

> Q: hey how much of this was subconsciously inspired by Lady of the Shard?  
> A: uhhh
> 
> Special thanks to What'sUpdog? and riskylatte for helping with some of the word choices.


End file.
